


wipe my ledger clean

by dxnvers



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Guilt, Implied Relationships, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:54:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxnvers/pseuds/dxnvers
Summary: reiner feels guilty for marcos death.
Relationships: Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Kudos: 20





	wipe my ledger clean

sometimes i can still hear his screams ringing in my head. sometimes i can still see his face. 

i hate thinking back to it but i can never seem to stop. it replays on a loop in my head. infinite loop that i can’t get out of. and when i do get out of it, i think of other things. other horrible things i’ve done. 

i look back and see their faces. terrified, scared for their lives. i told myself i wouldn’t get caught up by their deaths. they’re eldians, what does it matter? i was doing my duty and serving my country, no higher honor. but the weight of my sins kept me down till i couldn’t get back up. 

i want to be forgiven. but i know i don’t deserve it. 

my ledger run red with blood of the people i’ve killed and it can’t be washed off.

marco, a comrade i trained and fought with. ate meals with, shared a room with, shared laughs with, just another stain of red on my ledger. 

i want to wipe it out. i need to wipe it out.

but can i? will stopping the rumbling be enough? can i wipe out this much red? can i clean my hands of this much blood? 

no it can’t. i can’t be forgiven. he wouldn’t forgive me. 

“marco... would you forgive me?” i find myself asking a loud. 

i wouldn’t forgive me. i would be angry and bitter waiting for the moment i died and laugh as i was sent to hell and burned. 

but he was different. he was a soldier yes but never wanted to hurt anybody. 

sometimes when i’m alone i think back to that moment,

we haven’t even had a chance to talk this through.

i think of what he said. it echos through my head every time i kill. that’s probably what they’re all thinking anyways. the thought of millions of marcos, sweet and freckled, screaming to talk it through. 

why didn’t i listen, saved myself from the endless nightmares and sleepless nights? 

because i’m a coward. such a coward that i can’t stop my head from being guilty. such a coward that my brain had to tear itself in two. 

sometimes i think of what he would say. would he think i’m sad and pathetic? so pathetic that my brain had to make two of me? 

marco... 

a comrade who i killed. who i fed to a titan. who’s dead now. who’s been dead for years. who’s face i can’t seem to get out of my head. 

then i think of jean. i imagine him at night, crying, frantically scribbling on a piece of paper, trying to remember the face of his lover. i imagine him enraged at himself for forgetting his face. 

he probably doesn’t remember what marco looks like anymore. it’s been four years. i don’t think anyone could remember the face of a boy who’s been dead for years. except me. 

when i close my eyes i can see his freckled face, who i was so used to seeing in a grin or a nervous smile, sobbing, screaming for his life. 

when it’s quiet i can hear his screams. his pleas. his desperate begs for his life.

every time i ask why, why marco? out of all the people i’ve murdered, why does his death haunt me the most?

because he was a friend. of mine, of everyone. because he cared. 

“reiner? what are you doing out here?” marco asked sitting down next to him against the tree. 

it was a particularly bad day where all i could think of were the faces of people i’ve murdered.

“just not feeling the best,” i lied to him. marco stayed silent for a bit. 

“is there something on your mind? if there is, you can tell me, i’ll listen,” marco said smiling. 

smiling at his enemy. smiling at the person who would kill him in the future. 

i yearned to tell him about bringing down the wall. about how i indirectly killed almost everyone in shinganshina. about the hole i made in the wall. 

i looked up to marco and grinned the best i could. “no it’s fine just a little tired,” 

marco smiled and stood up. he held a hand out to help me up from the ground. 

held a hand out to his future murderer. 

“let’s get back before shadis has our heads,” 

i think back to that memory a lot. he cared. noticed that something was bothering and wanted to help. he cared enough to risk getting in trouble by shadis to ask me what was wrong. 

would i have done the same? will i do the same? 

no. i’m a monster. i’m a devil. we’re all devils. this i cannot deny. i’ve killed too many people not to be. too much red on my ledger. rivers would run red with the blood i’ve spilt. 

sometimes i have dreams, nightmares really, sometimes i can’t tell if they’re real or not. nightmares of him drowning me. in the river of red. i drown in the red river of blood. he smiles and laughs. i would. but it’s not him. he wouldn’t. that’s how i know they’re fake. i wish them to be real sometimes. times like now, i look back to that dream and wish it became a reality. i wish he would drown me in the river of blood i’ve spilt. i deserve it and so much more. i deserve to die 1000 times over. i want to. 

marco... i’m sorry. don’t forgive me. i don’t deserve it. i deserve death. i hope you laugh, marco, when i finally croak. i would. 

but i can’t die yet. i’ve got to keep fighting. to stop it. i can’t die yet marco. you can’t laugh at me yet. maybe stopping the rumbling will wipe my ledger clean. maybe it won’t. but i’ll try. for you. and for everyone who’s stained my ledger.

i’ve got to keep fighting.


End file.
